Demons of the Past
by CursedDragonX
Summary: I backed away as Pestilence, War and Famine rose from their hellish graves. My thoughts flooded back to Abbie and Ichabod. They will be dead in a matter of hours. The world will be dead in a matter of days. All because of me. I drove the world into the jaws of the Apocalypse. That was not the factor that scares me; I felt no emotion. That is what scares me.


**Hello everyone! I just wanted to take the time to thank you all for taking a look at this story! I really appreciate it! Anyways, the Horseman is my favorite character in Sleepy Hollow so I decided to make a fic about him since he is such a bawse. **

**To start off with, we will be flying backwards to the American Revolution (3 chapters at the most) and we will build up from there! If it feels like I'm going too fast or too slow, please tell me! I won't be insulted :) This isn't intended to be a really serious story, just a fun one that will have homur (hopefully). **

**I do not own Sleepy Hollow or any of the characters...yet... I'm kidding! Please don't throw me in jail!**

_**-Outskirt of Hudson Valley, New York 1781, Spring-**_

My nose tingeled at the all too familiar aroma of a wounded mercenarie's bloody wound. I opened my tent flap and stared down at the fallen soldier laying on the makeshift gourney. His chest slowly rose up and fell back down, indicating that he was still alive. Although looking at the severity of his wound, he might not have as long as I thought he would. I snatched up my bag from a chest and pulled out gauze and plenty of towels. The man opened a bloodshot eye and a corner of his pale lips curled into a smile, fresh and dried blood staining his teeth.

"I think this is the end for me, Fraulein. There is no healing this old dog anymore." I rolled my sea green eyes and cut the uniform open to fully expose the gunshot. I groaned slightly at the sight. His wound was seeping fresh blood which blended in with his red coat. I shook my head, my loose strands of light blonde hair swishing in my face. I swept them behind my ear, despite my hands being covered in blood. In this line of work, there is no such thing as clean and tidy. He coughed roughtly which caused more blood to ooze from between his lips, some of it landing on my cheeks. "I apologize for that. Coughing on a lady, my manners have been dampened." I smirked and slightly punched his shoulder playfully.

"Herr. Hartmann, do not speak of such ludacris things, you will be fine. I have healed everything from a papercut to a severed arm. Okay, I didn't HEAL the severed arm, but he is now the owner of a fairly fine stub." Hartmann laughed weakley, only to cough up more blood and sending fresh tumors of pain to course through every muscle fiber in his body. He groaned and leaned back further on the gourney, his pale blue eyes lidded. His gaze shifted over to me, sadness and other various emotions swimming within.

"You are a wonderful healer, Frau Evelyn. But do not think you can save everyone. We are all rallied back to our makers one day or the next. Do not strain yourself to save this old war dog."

No, I couldn't let him die. Herr Hartmann was a very close friend of mine, he was almost like my older brother. He helped to settle me in and watch over me at all times to make sure the mercenaries didn't attempt to hunt me down like a toy.

"I know I can't save everyone. But...it's worth a shot. Even if it is a shot in the dark, I'm willing to take it. I am going to do my duties to the best of my abilities. You should know that I do not give up easily."

"Aye, I know that for a fact. You are a little spitfire when it comes to your commrads." I smiled down at him, a single tear falling down my cheek and landing on his blood-stained hand.

"Especially when it comes to my commrads." I began to dig around for the bullet. I heard Hartmann groan in discomfort, slightly squirming. I frowned and stared deep into his eyes. "Please try not to move, it will only make the wound worse." He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. I began to dig around for the bullet once again.

"We are supposed to have new men arriving today. They should have been here a couple hours ago. Hopefully they didn't get caught in a battle or ambushed. We have lost too many boys in this bloodbath already." He licked his lips and a look of disgust twisted on his face. "Blood mixed with dirt and sweat, not the ideal taste." I laughed and wiped the blood away from his mouth. I dipped the towel in a bucket of water and washed off his face gently, resting the cold towel on his forehead. I focused back to the bullet.

"Evelyn, there is something I do not understand."

"Which is?"

"Why we agreed to fight alongside the British in a war that we were not involved in. We go into this war only to have lead pumped into our stomach and steel pushed though our heart. And what for? A small amount of pocket change. We put out lives on the line for change." I finally pulled out the bullet and began to clean the wound.

"You knew that the pay would be inadequite to your service, though. Therefore, there must be another reason why you chose this. I, for example, could never handle the life as a stay at home woman. I have always hated staying idle in a house only to go to the market or other such matters. I would go crazy if I was the typical woman in Germany right now." Hartmann slowly nodded his head, his eyes slightly twitching from the uncomfortable pain racking from his stomach.

"No, Frau, I can't really propose another reason why. I was just a poor farmer looking to get a little more pay. Greed can drive a man out of his senses." I smiled comfortingly down at him and covered up the wound. I wrapped gauze around his stomach and pat his shoulder.

"At least you are doing it for a good cause. Hell, if we win this, there may be a hidded reward behind the door." My head snapped up at the sound of an army of hoofbeats racing towards the camp.

"Looks like the new meat has arrived." I nooded and stood up, washing my hands off with a new towel. I peeked outside and saw the new mercenaries entering the camp. They were laughing and cheering in our native tongue. They all piled up in the middle and dismounted.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to feel these 'Americans' squirm under my boot on the ground where they belong," one young man, appearing around nineteen, hollered out, a vicious smile on his face, his eyes bright in anticipation. The other soldiers cheered along with him and they began to chatter about the war.

These guys had no idea what lays ahead of them. Trust me, I have been in a couple battles believe it or not. I barley escaped with my life the second time. I frowned and slipped my hand under my shirt and to my abdomen, running my finger across the scar that nearly disemboweled me.

I heard a hearty chuckle behind me and I turned to face General Eberstark with crossed arms. His grey eyes scanned over the new mercenaries, taking in every detail. His gaze diverted to me, a playful smirk curling on his face.

"What do you think of this bunch, Evelyn?" I leaned on the tent post and glanced back at him, returning his smirk.

"They seem like an interesting bunch. I have a feeling this group is different than the rest. In a good way, that is." Egerstark chuckeled and ruffled my hair, pulling out a cigar and lighting it up. He blew out a thick cloud of smoke and rested the cigar between his fingers.

"How is Hartmann doing?"

"I think he will be fine. I got the bullet out and now he just needs to lay down for a few days so the wound can heal and the medicine can work its magic."

"And by medicine you mean magic, I assume?" I jumped slightly and slowly glanced up at the general. He blew out another cloud and bit down on the cigar, placing his hands in his coat pockets. He sent me a reassurimg smile and glanced at the men then back to me. "Do not worry about anything, Evelyn. I will not shout out your gift to these men. You show them when you feel to do so." I glanced and my palms and nodded slowly, clenching them into fists.

No, they didn't need to know about that yet. Tears from a mixture of sorrow and anger began to weld up in my eyes at the painful memories that burried themselves deep into my mind.

"T-thanks you, Herr." I wiped the tears from my eyes and watched as he cleared his throat, placing his hands behind his back and standing up straight.

**(I used a translator for this, so I'm sorry if this is wrong!) **

"De houding staan!" _(Stand at attention!) _The men scrambled into two rows of eight, ready for any command given. General Eberstark threw his cigar on the ground and snuffed it out with his boot. He blew it into a man's face and frowned at the mans appauled reaction. "You better get used to that smell. I sure as hell guarantee that you will smell things much more foul and grotesque than that on the battlefield. Decaying bodies, blood, all the waste the bodies of your allies and that of our enemies will leave out of fear and death."

Eberstark began to walk up and down the rows of men, hands still behind his back. "There are no daisies for you to smell here. The only thing you will smell from this day on will be death. Let me tell you, death is the most rancid smell a human can withstand."

My eyes slightly widened as I heard the hoofbeats of an approaching rider. I turned around to see a masked man atop of a pure white steed gallop into the camp, screeching to a halt before the group of men. The horse nickered and began to paw the ground. I could of swore I saw a flash of red in its eyes. The masked man walked over to a tent and ran inside, swiftly closing the tent flaps behind him. Everyone stared at the tent and blinked, staring at each other. General Everstark nodded and clapped his hands to get everyones attention back.

"And there is our triumph card," he said with dark glee. The men only diverted their confused stares to glance at one another. Triumph card?

"When training is in session, I expect to see all of you practicing to the best of your abilities. Let this be a reminder that there are no second lives on the battlefield. If you decide not to train and better yourself, then you might as well be a dead man walking. Our allies, the British, are highly trained soldiers trained by the King's highest ranking officials. And what are we? We are just simple folk who decide to fight a war that is not our own. Do not do this for the money, men. Money will not follow you into the afterlife. Do it for the pride."

He glanced at me and his smirk grew, his eyes narrowing. I shivered slightly as I saw a flicker of black in his corneas. I saw the masked man step back out of the tent and walk to stand next to the general. "Evelyn, my dear, please do not linger in the shadows and show yourself." I sighed and stepped away from the tent, watching the shocked faces of the men. "Ah, there you are." I halted next to the general and sent the men a small smile. Some of them smiled back genuinley while other smiled back, lust in their eyes. I nearly gagged. Some soldiers are so deprived that they turn into animals.

"Who is this," a middle-aged man asked, a huge smile creeping onto his face. I crossed my arms over my chest, slightly glaring to make myself seem more...mean. Yeah, let's go with mean.

"As if you didn't hear him not even five seconds ago, my name is Evelyn," I snapped back. Once these men get put into their place, I will show them my nice side. A few of the men whistled and laughed, staring at me.

"I would watch yourself around her, boys. She isn't nicknamed 'Spitfire' for a reason. You can either stay on her good side, or be buried in a hole six feet under. Your choice. But be nice to her and we will all get along and no trouble will be done and we will have no bodies to bury."

"So, what is she even doing here," the same soldier chimed.

"I'm the medic. If you are on your death bed, I decide wether you fight another day or sleep with the worms in the nice, comfy soil. It all depends on my personal preference of you," I quirked an eyebrow and smirked. Oh ho, that got their attention. I heard Hartmann groan loudly. My small dose of pain killers must have worn off.

I began to turn my back on the men, but then I stopped in my tracks ans turned to face them. "I am usually a nice person who will get along with you well if you show me respect. But keep this fresh in your mind, I may be kind, but I promise you that if you purposley hurt me or anyone standing in this camp right now in any way, shape or form, kindness is not what you will remember me by." I turned and walked into the tent, ignoring any indication that the men heard me.

Hopefully I imprinted on them a little bit.

General Eberstark laughed and turned back to the men when he saw Evelyn enter the tent. He pulled out another cigar and lit it up, staring contently at the men standing infront of him. He pulled his hat down over his eyes slightly, staring up at the rising moon.

"She sure is something else, I'll tell you that," he remarked as he blew out, gently chewing on the end of the cigar. A few ashes decended towards the ground, their vivid amber color slowly fading. A cool gust brushed past them all, forcing a shiver up some spines. "I see that girl as a very close friend of mine. She has battled by my side for years and has healed more of my wounds than I can count." He glanced at the men from behind the brim of his hat. "You may relax. I didn't know a woman counld instill that much into you," he laughed. The mercenaries relaxed and let out a small sigh.

"You mean she has fough in this war?"

"You ask one too many questions my friend. But yes, she has. And in a couple others as well. Evelyn there was a child that roamed the streets. A pickpocketer is what she was dubbed. I saw potential in her that I never saw in any child my path crossed. I took under my wing when she was ten and I trained her long and hard through all of these years. So yes, she can fight and she can heal. Evelyn is a two for one deal." The general's gaze went hard, black flickering in his eyes once more. "But if she tells me that anyone of you tried to advance upon her, you will deal with me. Well, that is after she deals with you." He yawned and stretched out his arms. "Well ladies, time to hit the sack. Breakfast will be provided when you wake. We understand that you have had a long and hard trip. Now go and get some beauty sleep so you will be rested for tomorrow."

The mercenaries toom off for their tents, stretching and yawning. General Eberstark turned to the man at his side and smiled tightly.

"Do not fret, Death. Your axe will soon be slicing through those traitor's necks." General Eberstark retreated for his tent. His cigar dropped to the hard ground and it went out with a small hiss.

**And chapter one is done! I would really appreciate it if I recieve some reviews. The more reviews the faster the updates. I hope you all are enjoying this so far! :)**


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